


In Sickness

by jonsastan (lilzipop)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluffy, POV Sansa Stark, Sick and comfort, Sick!Jon, Sick!Sansa, hehehe my jokes are so bad I'm sorry, its 'sickly' sweet, like really mild but it thought you should know, mild vomit warning, not serious sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilzipop/pseuds/jonsastan
Summary: Sansa aggressively poured orange juice into a glass. It was not something many people could manage to do aggressively, but Sansa managed it without spilling a drop. She put the juice away, barely avoiding slamming the fridge door. The toaster popped and Sansa stalked over to it, removing the toast and buttering it whilst muttering under her breath in a mocking tone.“I won't get sick, Sansa. I have a great immune system.” She blew a piece of hair out of her eyes.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66
Collections: Jonsa Holidays 2019





	In Sickness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivilove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy it!

Sansa aggressively poured orange juice into a glass. It was not something many people could manage to do aggressively, but Sansa managed it without spilling a drop. She put the juice away, barely avoiding slamming the fridge door. The toaster popped and Sansa stalked over to it, removing the toast and buttering it whilst muttering under her breath in a mocking tone.

“I won't get sick, Sansa. I have a great immune system.” She blew a piece of hair out of her eyes.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

__Sansa reclined in her bed, her laptop resting on the bed tray in front of her, her tissue box poised next to it. She had moved a bin to the floor next to her bed and her bedside table was neatly organised with various foods, beverages, and medicines she would require._ _

__Even in sickness Sansa Stark was prepared._ _

__She pulled the covers right up under her chin and tried not to wince at the pain in her throat as she swallowed. Just as her fingers hovered over the space bar ready to binge the show Arya had recommended, her apartment door opened and she heard Jon call for her._ _

__“In here!” She called back and immediately regretted it as fire seemed to curl up her throat at the effort. She reached and took a sip of the cold orange and mango juice on her bedside table to soothe the pain._ _

__“Oh baby.” Jon muttered as he stood in the doorway, his eyes flickering over her, his hand holding onto one of the string shopping bags Sansa had made for him. “How are you?”_ _

__Sansa, learning from her last mistake, just frowned and shook her head. He moved to the bed next to her, kicking off his shoes, and emptying the contents of the string bag onto the bed._ _

__He quietly handed her more pain medicine than she could realistically use in a lifetime, 2 giant blocks of chocolate, and an orange. Sansa carefully found places for them on her side table._ _

__“I’ll make us soup later, yeah?” Jon offered, with a sympathetic smile. Sansa nodded. Jon was a decent enough cook and soup was just what she wanted._ _

__Jon began to pull back the covers to climb in next to her._ _

__“Jon!” she exclaimed, her voice sounding croaky and quiet. “No! You’ll get sick.” He just shook his head and cuddled up next to her, pulling her close to him._ _

__“I won't get sick, Sansa. I have a great immune system.”_ _

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sansa placed the warm breakfasts, along with a glass of juice, some tea, the box of medicine, and a small vase with a single small sunflower in it, on the tray and lifted it, moving toward through the kitchen and the living room, still muttering under her breath in that mocking tone.

“I never get sick! I haven’t been sick a day in my life.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

__She knew she had a fever. She could feel the sweat dripping down her back as her body shook from cold, but she couldn’t take any more medication for another hour or so and even then she’d have to sit up to take it and the way her head felt she was worried it might explode._ _

__Her door opened and she hid her face from the bright light._ _

__“Shower?” Jon’s deep and soothing voice asked._ _

__Sansa whimpered a yes and began to move, Jon’s strong hands aiding her. She was soon on her feet, her hands gripping Jon’s as she moved to her bathroom. She knew, logically, her bedroom was not rocking like the deck of a ship in the middle of a storm, but her legs didn’t seem to realise that. Soon they reached the bathroom door and Jon hit the light switch, causing Sansa to squeeze her eyes shut and groan._ _

__“Shit.” The switch flicked and the bathroom was dim again, illuminated by the soft light of the lamps in her bedroom. “Sorry, love.” Jon whispered._ _

__“It’s okay.” Sansa replied. Her hands were already pushing the sweat dampened sleep shorts down her legs. “I got it from here.” The statement would have been more convincing if she hadn’t stumbled right after the words left her lips._ _

__“It’s okay.” Jon said, his hands reaching out to steady her. “I need a shower too.”_ _

__She didn’t really register what he was saying until she was leaning her forehead against the shower wall, the hot water warming her shaking body, and hands began to rub soap on her back in gentle circles._ _

__“Jon.” She said, trying to shrug him off. “You’re going to get sick too.”_ _

__“Don’t worry.” He replied, dropping a soft kiss onto her shoulder to tempt fate. “I never get sick. I haven’t been sick a day in my life.”_ _

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sansa balanced breakfast tray on one hand whilst the other reached out to twist the doorknob to the bedroom, she moved in quietly, noting Jon’s recumbent figure under the covers. He didn’t raise his head at the sound of the door, or her footsteps as she moved across the room. Her mouth still moving in the tirade of platitudes he’d comforted her with. 

“I’ll be fine, Sansa. I don’t get sick, remember?” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 _ _Her fingers gripped her mattress as she sat there trying, and failing, to bargain with her stomach.__ Please no, please don’t. _ _But her stomach was not listening. Seconds later Sansa was hurled herself off of her bed, waking Jon, and running to the bathroom. She managed to throw the toilet seat up and kneel over the bowl before retching up everything in her stomach.__

__“Sans?” she heard Jon’s sleep voice call. “You okay?”_ _

__She answered by retching into the toilet bowl. A few seconds later she felt Jon’s hands come around her face and pull her hair back. He tied it in a ponytail before moving to the sink. Sansa spat some chunk of something she’d rather not think about out of her mouth and reached for the flush as Jon moved and sat on the floor next to her. He handed her a glass of water and began to rub circles into her back._ _

__She smiled to herself as she rinsed her mouth, still not feeling stable enough to leave the bathroom floor._ _

__“Jon-” she began._ _

__“I’ll be fine, Sansa. I don’t get sick, remember?”_ _

__Sansa nodded. She didn’t think this was a sickness he could catch, but she’d confirm it with the doctor, or at least a test, before getting his hopes up._ _

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sansa placed the tray down as silently as possible before perching on the edge of the bed. She reached across and brushed some dark curls from his forehead before pressing her hand there. __The fever’s going__ she thought _ _.__

“Sansa?” Jon asked in a sleepy voice, rolling over to face her. 

“Shh.” She hissed. “You’ll wake Rickard.”

“It’s okay, Mama.” Rickard’s soft voice said, from near Sansa’s hand. “Daddy’s snoring woke me up first.” 

Jon let out a breath of laughter and Sansa smiled as she moved to open the curtains. Jon was pulling himself into a seated position, whilst their son was wriggling and stretching. Rickard looked like his father, dark hair and grey eyes and, at the moment, covered in red spots. 

Jon’s hand reached up to scratch the spots on his face.

“Ah!” Sansa exclaimed, holding a finger up at him. “If Rickard can stop himself from scratching so can you.” She moved back to the bed as Rickard was pushing his little body into an upright position. 

“I made you breakfast, sweetie.” she said, sitting on the bed and tucking the covers around her son before gently resting the tray before him. 

His mouth was still a little loose from rest and his had some sleep clinging to his eyes, but his cheeks had lost their hectic glow and his spots seemed to be easing up. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked. Rickard reached out his chubby little hand and grabbed one of the toast soldiers Sansa had buttered and cut before dunking into the egg and moving to his mouth.

“Thank you Mama.” He muttered. She smiled sympathetically as she ran her fingers through his curls. She reached out and took the second plate of toast soldiers and egg and handed it to Jon who smiled his own thanks to her before eating. 

They sat in silence as they ate, Sansa sipping the tea she had made for herself and encouraging her son to drink all of his orange juice. When he was done, Rickard snuggled into her side, burying his head into her, his hand coming to grasp her sweater. Sansa lowered her hand to rub circles on his back in the motioned she’d done since he was a baby to calm him.

“Mama, you should sit in the middle so Daddy can cuddle you too.” He muttered, his eyes half closed with sleep. 

“You think Daddy needs cuddles?” She asked, her hand still moving in slow, soothing circles. 

“I think so.” Rickard’s little voice was heavy with the sleep he was trying to fight. “Cuddles make me feel better and Daddy’s sick too.” Sansa smiled as she carefully maneuvered herself between her husband and her son. Rickard rolled slightly, repositioning himself to be snuggled right up next to her, his hand grasping hers and putting back to its motion of slow circles, before he grabbed some of her sweater. 

With the swiftness only exhausted children seem to manage, Rickard was back asleep, his small chest rising and falling with regularity. She turned to her husband who was watching their son, a look of love and concern painted in his face. 

“He’ll start to feel better soon.” Sansa reassured. Jon nodded and then looked at her.

“You shouldn’t be in here Sansa.” Despite his words, he moved closer, resting his head on her shoulder and reached his arm across her to press gently to their son’s hand. “You’ll get sick.” 

Sansa smiled and raised her other hand to rest on Jon’s head, burying her fingers in his hair.

“Don’t worry, Jon. I won’t get sick.” His head felt heavier on her shoulder and his breathing began to even out as he drifted back into sleep. “I’ve got a great immune system.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was okay! Let me know in the comments!


End file.
